Lust Crazed Saviours
by malfoysminx
Summary: An 'accident' in potions leaves Harry Potter head over heels in lust with Draco Malfoy. Fun ensues, but not before Draco's conscience makes an unexpected appearance. Eighth year fic. Drarry SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn't mine.

Warnings: SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

 **Lust Crazed Saviours**

 **Chapter 1**

Draco gave his potion one final stir before nodding at it in satisfaction. It was the perfect shade of deep pink and even he was impressed with his own efforts. It was a devilishly tricky potion to brew, as a quick glance around the classroom proved. Longbottom aside, most of the assembled seventh and eighth years had managed something with at least the hint of a pinkish hue, but no one else beside himself and Granger had managed the vibrant colour the professor had described at the start of the lesson. Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, Potter, Granger's partner for the afternoon, began the final set of stirs, his features narrowed in concentration and Draco couldn't resist. Pouring a sample of his potion into a vial, he headed for the currently deserted professor's desk to hand it in. As he was passing Potter's desk he began muttering under his breath, just loudly enough for the Gryffindor to hear him.

"Five, eighteen, ten, twenty-four, seven..."

Almost immediately, Potter began cursing, but Draco forced himself to keep walking, it would do no good for him to get caught in the spray when the potion, (still volatile until the thirtieth stir and thoroughly ruined at the thirty-first), inevitably exploded. Depositing his vial, he finally allowed himself to turn back, biting back a grin when he saw Granger whispering furiously to her troubled looking friend. Quickening his step, he kept well back, watching cautiously as the bubbling cauldron began to froth violently. Potter had apparently recovered his mulish streak and was glaring at Granger as if it was her fault he was so easily distracted and Draco found himself biting back a malicious grin. His plan was working perfectly. Any minute now, the cauldron would explode and Potter and Granger would fall, temporarily at least, in lust with each other. Alright so it wasn't the most evil of plans, but it would certainly throw a spanner in the workings of the golden trio. Weasley would be devastated and no doubt the amorous pair would be thoroughly mortified when the effects finally wore off.

Of course, the one thing Draco hadn't accounted for was his own rotten luck. Later when he thought back on it he had to acknowledge that he should have known better, after all, when had any of his plans regarding Potter ever actually worked as intended? At the time however, flush in the knowledge that everything was going swimmingly, it didn't even occur to him how badly his prank could backfire on him.

As Draco settled into his seat, he kept his eyes on the Gryffindors' cauldron noting the way the high flame quickly pushed the liquid inside up to boiling point. Granger and Potter, meanwhile, were still arguing and didn't seem to have noticed the heightened activity of their potion. Any moment now, he thought eagerly, any moment now... Suddenly, just as he had anticipated, the potion exploded showering Potter with pink droplets only, at the very last second, he turned away from his friend to glare at... Draco.

For that brief moment, time seemed to stand still. He was only faintly aware that Granger, damn her, had somehow managed to cast a shield before the potion could touch her. He didn't even notice the effects of the explosion on the already overly amorous pair of seventh years at the next table, who promptly jumped each other's bones in the middle of the classroom. All he could see was the familiar glare on Potter's face melting away to be replaced by a completely unfamiliar expression of pure, unadulterated desire.

"Hello, Draco." The Gryffindor whispered huskily, crossing the room in a flash and coiling his arms around Draco's neck.

 _Fuck_. This was not supposed to happen. Potter was supposed to be looking at Granger when the potion exploded. He was supposed to fall in lust with _her_.

"Get off of me, Potter." He shoved roughly at the other boy's chest, but to no avail.

"Come on, Harry, let Malfoy go." Granger's cajoling voice piped up from somewhere behind the Gryffindor.

"No." He declared stubbornly, burrying his face in the curve of Draco's neck and _kissing_ him. "Want to stay here."

Well that was quite enough of _that_. Slipping his wand out of its holster, he pointed it straight at the saviour's middle and cast.

"Ow, fuck! What was that for?" Potter's usual glare was substituted by a rather pitiful expression that looked completely wrong on the hero's face, but at least he'd stepped back.

"No one touches a Malfoy without permission." He hissed.

"But..." The Gryffindor took a step forward and Draco instinctively raised his wand.

"No you don't, not another step closer or that stinging hex you just felt will feel like a gentle caress in comparison to the next one."

Potter blinked at him, before his features curved up into an unexpected smile.

"A gentle caress?" He asked softly, apparently completely missing Draco's point.

"No." He glared and aiming his wand, he opened his mouth, only for another spell to hit Potter before he could get the words out.

"Stupefy!"

Draco wasn't certain who was responsible, but he suspected Granger given that she was already hovering over her prone friend before anyone else had managed to overcome their shock.

"Keep him away from me until that wears off." He glowered at the Gryffindor's housemates.

"We will, but only for his own good." The muggleborn's glare was just as implacable as his own. "It's your own fault and you deserve to deal with the consequences."

"Of course it is." He rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's entirely my fault that Potter is incapable of brewing a potion correctly."

"I know it was you, Malfoy." Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "He was just telling me as such when the potion exploded."

"Why would you want Harry to fall in lust with you?" Weasley asked stupidly, his face twisted with confusion.

Draco rolled his eyes again. "I want nothing of the sort and if your pathetic hero had spent more time watching his potion and less time watching me, he might have managed to brew it without it blowing up in his face. Furthermore, if he hadn't been so busy glaring at me, I wouldn't have been the object of his ridiculous affections in the first place. Now in case you missed it the first time, I'll repeat myself. Keep him the hell away from me."

"I still don't get it." Weasley muttered, before lowering his voice to speak directly to Granger. "Why would Malfoy interfere with Harry's potion, he must've known Harry would be looking at him? Harry's always fucking staring at the ferret, it's sickening."

Draco barely managed to keep his mouth from dropping open as he heard the Weasel's whisper, obviously not meant for his ears. Glancing round he was relieved to see that no one else seemed to have caught the quiet words. Of course, he knew Potter spent an inordinate amount of time with his attention fixed on Draco, but whenever Draco caught him at it, he merely seemed to be glaring. Yet why would that bother the Weasel? He was little better himself, sending plenty of scowls Draco's way, even if he didn't spend quite as much time glowering at him as Potter did.

"Harry will be mortified when he comes round." Longbottom pointed out, answering the first question and at that, Weasley's expression cleared, though his girlfriend was now giving Draco an uncomfortably appraising look.

Still, he felt a little better about things. Perhaps his plan hadn't quite worked out how he'd intended, but he'd still managed to humiliate Potter. Not wanting to stick around for the Gryffindor to wake up, however, he hastily began throwing his things into his bag before striding out of the room, head held high.

^v^

A couple of hours later, Draco found himself in the great hall for dinner, definitely _not_ noticing the conspicuously empty space at the Gryffindor table. He'd have thought the potion would have worn off by now, but perhaps Potter's mouth had been open during the explosion and he'd ingested some of it. Even a drop or two could prolong the effects for up to six hours, though it was unlikely to be much longer than that without a full dose.

Picking at his food, he tried to stop himself replaying the incident in the classroom over and over again, but his mind appeared to be stuck on a loop. All he seemed capable of thinking about was Harry Potter; the way Potter had looked at him, his features for once not twisted with anger or disgust, the way Potter's lips had felt, oddly soft against the skin of Draco's throat, the way Potter had spoken to him, all rich velvety tones. ' _Hello, Draco_ ' he'd said, and who knew that could be so... appealing.

By the time he'd made a passable attempt at dinner, he felt thoroughly drained and all he wanted to do as he left the hall was curl up in bed with a good book and stay there for the rest of the evening. It was perhaps not the most traditional way of spending a Friday night, but he simply couldn't face the mind games of his fellow housemates while he was so preoccupied. Leaving his friends in the common room after the barest minimum of social discourse, he headed to his dorm to do just that, preparing himself for bed before pulling back the drapes. It said a lot about his distraction that it wasn't until he spotted the all too familiar messy head settled on his pillow that he realised the drapes should not have been shut in the first place. It was obvious now why they had been closed, however. There in his bed, though mostly hidden by the covers, was Harry sodding Potter.

"Hello, Draco." The Gryffindor purred at him. Fucking _purred_.

"Potter!" He barked back, hoping the roughness of his tone would hide the effect the rumpled presence of his nemesis seemed to be having on him. "What the fuck are you doing in my bed?"

"Waiting for you." He was huskily informed.

The Gryffindor stretched cat-like, then pushed himself up into a sitting position. The move dislodged the sheets and Potter seemed perfectly content to let them fall away from his chest. For a long moment all Draco could do was stare. Beneath the covers, Potter was shirtless, his surprisingly toned torso on full display. He was sure it should not have affected him, marred as it was by countless scars of all shapes and sizes and, of course, the fact that it was attached to Potter, but for some reason he found it almost impossible to tear his gaze away from the unexpectedly enticing sight of all that bare flesh. He didn't even dare to contemplate what the Gryffindor hero might be wearing beneath the sheets now pooled in his lap. Or not wearing, as the case may be.

"How did you even get in here?" He demanded, desperately trying to regain control of himself. "Who gave you the password?"

Potter shrugged. "No one, I just followed you after dinner and slipped in before the door shut behind Goyle."

"You followed me? Why does that not surprise me?" Draco muttered to himself, before adding aloud. "Your friends were supposed to be keeping you away from me."

The other boy shrugged again and the sheet slipped a few centimetres further, revealing yet more of the tanned skin and not a hint of clothing. "I sneaked out."

"Of course you did."

Draco pressed his fingers to his temples as he prayed to whatever deity was listening for strength. He knew the obvious thing to do would be to simply hex Potter unconscious and leave him in the corridor for his friends to collect when they inevitably realised their precious hero had escaped. Really, it was the only sensible course of action, but seeing the Gryffindor in his bed, half naked or possibly even completely naked… He hastily shut that thought process down before it could take root. Well, it reawakened a few of those forbidden fantasies that he'd never even admitted to himself to having.

Focussing on Potter again, he opened his mouth to say Merlin knows what when the other boy abruptly lunged forward, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging hard, sending him sprawling across the bed with a yelp. Before he could so much as consider what to do next, the Gryffindor rolled on top of him, burying his hands in Draco's hair to keep him steady and slamming their mouths together.

Whether his gasp of shock was misconstrued as encouragement or whether in his potion addled state Potter simply didn't care that Draco was not quite willing, he wasn't sure, but the Gryffindor did not hesitate to take advantage, slipping his tongue between Draco's parted lips and kissing him deeply. Somewhat desperately, he reached for Potter's shoulders, intent on pushing him off no matter how good the smooth, warm skin felt against his palms, only then the Gryffindor shifted, settling more firmly against Draco's body and his protest abruptly became a moan of pleasure. Almost unconsciously, his hands began stroking over Potter's bare flesh, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away. Evidently feeling his capitulation, the Gryffindor seemed to redouble his efforts, his tongue twining with Draco's in a sensual dance that left him breathless and needy.

"Potter!" He choked out, when the other boy finally released him.

"Mmm?" The Gryffindor murmured, pressing his lips against Draco's neck and completely derailing his train of thought.

"This... You..." He gasped, his words dying away as Potter sucked hard before soothing the spot with his tongue.

"You have to stop." He tried again, but all that came out was a moan of pleasure.

His hands drifted unconsciously down Potter's back, sliding easily over the bare skin and pushing the twisted sheets away without a thought. Even so, when his fingers drifted lower, caressing the base of the Gryffindor's spine, he expected to meet some form of resistance. When there was nothing stopping him, his hands slipping down unhampered over the other boy's behind, he froze in shock.

"You're naked." He whispered.

"Mhmm." Potter finally drew back to look at him, fixing that smouldering gaze on Draco's face. "And now it's your turn."

"What? Wait!" He yelped as the other boy suddenly attacked the buttons of his pyjama top, tearing at least two of them off in his evident hurry to strip Draco of his clothing.

"Potter, stop it!" He protested fruitlessly and perhaps a little half-heartedly as the Gryffindor wrestled him out of his shirt.

"Why? I know you want me too." The other boy murmured, pausing in his task to pepper kisses across Draco's chest.

"Of course I don't!"

"Liar." Potter declared, raising his head to grin at him. "Did you really think I wasn't going to notice this?"

Before Draco could stop him, Potter had hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of Draco's trousers, tugging them down his thighs and revealing the erection he had indeed hoped the Gryffindor would be too distracted to notice.

"Potter..." He warned, but the harsh tone he'd attempted came out sounding more like a breathy plea. A plea the Gryffindor seemed all too happy to answer.

Another tug and Draco was as naked as Potter and then the other boy's hand was right _there_.

"Fuck." He gasped, his back arching automatically as he thrust himself more firmly into the Gryffindor's fist.

"Mmm, good idea." Potter whispered, resettling himself over Draco's body and widening his grip to encircle both of them.

"What?" He bit back a moan of pure pleasure at the new sensations the Gryffindor's latest trick had evoked.

"Fuck me." Potter demanded huskily.

For just a second, Draco's brain seemed to short circuit and he nearly gave Potter exactly what he'd asked for. Yet almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew he could not go through with it. Much as he'd always hated the Gryffindor, had always longed to get one over on him, he simply could not bring himself to do it. Shocked as he was certain Potter would be to discover it, Draco did in fact have a conscience and he could not take advantage of the Gryffindor in his current state of intoxication. Of course he probably should have come to this conclusion before Potter's hand had found its way into Draco's pants, but he could hardly be expected to think properly when he unexpectedly found his bed full of naked, lust crazed saviour.

"No." He whispered finally.

"Why not?" Potter pouted, halting the movement of his hand and nearly prompting Draco to change his mind.

"Because you're not in your right mind. You'll regret it in the morning." _And probably have me expelled for rape_ , he added silently.

"I won't regret it." Potter assured him earnestly. "I've wanted this for so long..."

"Of course you have. You've wanted me since the very first moment you saw me, right?" He'd been going for sarcastic but his words came out sounding rather more bitter than he'd intended.

"No, that's just stupid, I hated you." Potter gave him a look as though he were the one whose brain was completely addled.

"I know you do." Draco sighed heavily, feeling suddenly exhausted despite the early hour.

"I just don't any more." The Gryffindor finished as though he hadn't been interrupted.

"That's just the potion talking, you'll be back to hating me in the morning, don't worry."

"No I won't." The other boy declared, stubbornly. "You'll see."

"Fine, then we'll wait until morning. If you still want me to fuck you then, I will fuck you so well and so hard you'll be screaming my name so damn loudly that your friends will be able to hear you all the way up in Gryffindor tower."

"Merlin..." Potter whispered, staring at him wide-eyed. "Is that a promise?"

"Sure, why not." He threw his hands up in frustration, before finally rolling out from beneath the other boy. "Tomorrow morning you can have whatever you fucking want."

"And what about now?" Potter murmured, pressing himself against Draco's back and sliding an arm around his waist.

"Now, we go to sleep." He held himself rigid, despite the almost overwhelming urge to relax into the embrace.

"Yeah right." Potter snorted. "As if either of us are going to get any sleep while we still feel like this."

As if to illustrate his point, the Gryffindor's hand slid down over Draco's abdomen to cup his erection in his palm. Despite his best attempts, he couldn't quite bite back his moan of pleasure as Potter's warm fist encircled him once again.

"Turn over."

"No, go to sleep."

"Turn over." Potter repeated, tightening his grip almost to the point of pain.

"Ow, what the fuck?" Rolling onto his other side, Draco shot the Gryffindor a vicious glare only to have his lips immediately caught in a breathtaking kiss.

"Much better." The other boy murmured finally, as his mouth left Draco's in favour of trailing his tongue over the rough stubble of Draco's jaw. "Now, I can do this..."

Somehow, despite all their movements, the Gryffindor had managed to retain his grip on Draco's erection. Now, he widened his fist once more to encircle them both, immediately setting a fast pace that left them panting roughly into each other's mouths.

It felt better than he could have imagined; the firm press of Potter's chest against his, the rough calluses of his hand as it stroked, the indescribably pleasurable sensation of the hard, velvety shaft, rubbing urgently against his own... He wanted to add his own fingers to the mix, to feel Potter's length in his hand, but he didn't dare. He was already allowing the Gryffindor to do far more that he should, he could not permit himself to take a more active role in their coupling. Whatever happened, he knew Potter would be furious in the morning, but despite it all, he just couldn't bring himself to force the other boy to stop. No matter what the consequences might be, he simply wanted it far too much to deny himself this one chance at bliss, even if it was only now that he was fully able to admit that he wanted the Gryffindor at all.

Despite his best intentions and iron self-control, the urge to touch Potter, even in some small way; to tangle his fingers in the messy hair or close the distance between them in a heated kiss, was almost more than he could resist. He knew however, that if he allowed himself anything, he would not be able to stop himself from taking more. One kiss would lead to two, three. One innocent touch would lead to a hasty caress, a stolen grope. Still, he would not, _could not_ , stop Potter from touching him and at the very least, the Gryffindor seemed determined to make up for everything Draco would not permit himself to do.

His lips trailed over Draco's skin, one moment pressed against his own, the next sucking roughly at his throat or the edge of his jaw. At the same time, his free hand travelled unceasingly over Draco's torso, tangling in his chest hair, tracing the faintly raised lines of barely visible scars or teasing at his nipples and all the while his right hand continued its furious rhythm, driving them both closer and closer to the edge.

When the Gryffindor tightened his grip just slightly, his lips settling more firmly over Draco's in a rough and breathless kiss, he very nearly lost control completely. Tearing his mouth away before he did something stupid, he instead found himself gazing into over-bright green eyes, glazed with passion and he nearly lost it all over again.

"Potter..." He warned, urgently, knowing he would not be able to hold back again.

"Yes..." The Gryffindor moaned back. "So close, Draco..."

A moment later, Potter tensed, his head falling back with a silent cry as he shot ribbons of fluid across both of their stomachs. It shouldn't have been so hot, but the expression on the Gryffindor's face, combined with the sensation of his now slick hand sliding over Draco's flesh was more than he could stand. With a muffled cry, he tumbled over the edge, coming into Potter's fist harder than he had during even the most incredible sex he had previously experienced.

He was still coming down from his post-orgasmic high when the Gryffindor reached for Draco's wand, casually casting a quick cleaning charm, before settling back into his arms. He wasn't sure why it was this, rather than the unexpected brilliance of the one-sided hand-job that really threw him, but despite the potion, Draco had still expected the other boy to be hexing him stupid or at the very least, running for the hills by now. The last thing he'd expected was to find himself trapped by a cuddly Potter, far more intent on nuzzling Draco's throat with his face and hugging him tightly than making any attempt at fight or flight.

"That was amazing." The Gryffindor told him huskily when he finally drew back, his lips quirking up into a surprisingly attractive, wicked grin. "Just imagine how much better sex will be."

Draco wanted to imagine no such thing, knowing that he was far more likely to be hexed insensible in the morning than shagged silly, but he nodded his agreement anyway.

"Until tomorrow, then?" Potter winked, snuggling more comfortably against Draco's side and pressing one last kiss against his shoulder.

"Yeah." He agreed, morosely, though the other boy already seemed to be half asleep. "Until tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn't mine.

Warnings: SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

 **Lust Crazed Saviours**

 **Chapter 2**

When Draco awoke, the first thing he realised was that Potter was still asleep. At least, he assumed that must be the case given that the Gryffindor was still sprawled across his chest, head tucked contentedly beneath Draco's chin. For just a moment he allowed himself to enjoy it, the feel of the other boy's hair tickling his jaw, the callused palm resting against his shoulder, the pleasant heat of Potter's body pressed intimately against his own... He could get used to this; waking up beside the Gryffindor.

The wayward thought startled him so much that he flinched and his movement, slight as it was, was all it took to wake the sleeping lion. Potter stirred and for just a moment seemed to nuzzle more deeply into Draco's embrace before realisation evidently struck. Tearing himself away, Potter all but fell out of the bed in his hurry to detach himself. Sitting up, he looked ready to bolt until he abruptly noticed his own state of dress. In a flash, he was buried back beneath the sheets, little more than his eyes and the top of his messy head visible above the Egyptian cotton.

"What am I doing here?" Potter demanded, eyes filled with mistrust as he frowned at him across the pillow.

"What do you remember?" Draco questioned back, trying not to notice how much he missed the softer expressions he'd already become accustomed to seeing on the Gryffindor's face.

"We were in potions..." He started, before his features suddenly twisted into a fierce glare. "You threw off my counting. You made my potion explode."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Your inability to count up to thirty is not my fault."

"I know you distracted me on purpose. What? Did you want me to lust after you? Is that it? Humiliate me in front of everyone? You're such a bastard, Malfoy."

"Actually, you were supposed to lust after Granger, which would have nicely pissed off the both of you as well as the Weasel in one fell swoop. It's not my fault you can't keep your eyes off of me for more than thirty seconds at a time."

To Draco's surprise, Potter flushed at that, but he was still too caught up on the Gryffindor's accusations to take much notice of it.

"And just so you're aware, there are plenty of people who would not be ' _humiliated_ ' to be seen lusting after me, so fuck you, Potter."

"I didn't mean it like that." The other boy frowned.

"No, of course not." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Suddenly, the Gryffindor's eyes went impossibly wide and he stared at Draco as though he'd never seen him before. "No..."

"No?" He repeated, momentarily nonplussed.

"You said no." Potter clarified. "I asked you to... _you know_ , and you said no."

"Yes, because a rape conviction is exactly what I needed to spice up my CV, it would have fit so nicely beneath 'marked Death Eater'." He tried to sneer, before belatedly adding. "Besides, why would I want to fuck you, anyway?"

"I don't know why, but I know you wanted to."

"Think what you like." Draco shrugged, finally giving into the temptation to flee and rolling over to present Potter with his back.

For a long while, the Gryffindor remained silent and Draco found himself desperately wondering what the other boy was thinking. The longer he lay still, the more memories of the previous evening seemed to return, taunting him with ghostly caresses and remembered words. Potter had said he'd 'wanted this for so long', but Draco hadn't thought to ask what he'd meant. Wanted sex? Wanted Draco? Wanted sex _with_ Draco? He barely resisted the temptation to snort. As if Potter would ever want anything to do with him when he wasn't under the influence of a powerful potion.

"You made me a promise." Potter finally broke the silence, although it was the last thing Draco had expected him to say.

"It was the only way I could get you to keep those wandering hands to yourself."

"But I didn't keep them to myself. Last night you let me touch you everywhere..."

Suddenly the Gryffindor was right there, his body pressed flush against Draco's back as one hand slid over his hip to rest against his abdomen, lightly holding him in place.

"What are you doing?" He choked out, torn between tearing himself from Potter's embrace and melting back against him in surrender.

"You promised me last night that if I still wanted you this morning, then I could have whatever I wanted. You promised to fuck me so hard that half the school would hear my cries." The hand on his abdomen began to stroke up and down, dipping lower and lower with each caress. "Well I still want you, so what are you going to do about it?"

"Fuck you, Potter." Draco caught the wandering hand before it had a chance to reach his rapidly growing erection, his voice coming out more sharply than he intended as he fought against his body's treacherous reactions. "I'm sorry I _humiliated_ you in potions yesterday, but you've already had your revenge, just shove off and leave me be."

"This isn't revenge." Potter protested quietly, though he stopped fighting against Draco's hold. "I meant what I said last night, I've wanted you for ages. The potion didn't change how I felt about you, it just made me forget all the reasons why I shouldn't tell you. I never dreamed you could want me too, but last night..."

"What?" Draco demanded roughly when the Gryffindor did not continue immediately.

"Last night..." He chose to ignore the amusement at his impatience that he could hear lacing the other boy's words. "You didn't push me away because you didn't want me. You pushed me away because you didn't want me _like that_."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to." Potter struggled to free his hand again, but when Draco refused to release him, the other boy used his mouth instead, pressing a row of biting kisses across Draco's shoulder. "You wanted me, but you said no anyway, that says it all for you."

"I let you do what you wanted, within reason I might add, and that was all. I barely touched you." He hoped the Gryffindor wouldn't notice the breathless quality of his voice, but he knew it was probably a long shot.

"You wanted to though, just like you want to now." Potter paused to nibble on his ear lobe. "And you can't tell me you didn't enjoy what I did to you, because I know different, I felt it."

Draco shrugged. "You could have been anyone."

For half a second Potter paused, as if thinking this over and he nearly took it all back, but then Potter pressed even closer, his lips continuing to trail kisses over whichever parts of Draco he could reach.

"No." He disagreed. "If I'd been just anyone you wouldn't have been so tolerant with me. You'd have kicked me out of bed with nothing more than a 'fuck you'. You let me have what I wanted even if it was ' _within reason_ ' and then you let me stay."

"But..." He started, though he had no real idea of what he was going to say.

"After all," The Gryffindor continued as though Draco had not interrupted. "You could have anyone you wanted, so why allow me to have my way with you? _'No one touches a Malfoy without permission_ ', right?"

For one of the only times in his life, he found that he had been rendered completely speechless. Who knew Potter was capable of employing such sly tactics? He had systematically blocked Draco off at every turn, quoting his own words back at him to drive each nail home. Could it really be true then? Did Potter really want him, even without the effects of the lust potion twisting his desires? Suddenly, the Weasel's words from the previous day returned to him, only this time he saw them in an entirely different light. ' _Harry's always fucking staring at the ferret_ ', he'd said, ' _it's sickening_ '. So was this what he'd meant? Perhaps Potter only glared when he was _caught_ looking, in which case...

"So I want you…" The Gryffindor continued finally when it became obvious Draco was not about to speak. "And you want me…"

Potter paused to tug his hand from Draco's now boneless grip, lowering it to cup his half-hard shaft. He bit back a moan even as his thoughts continued to whirl. With the warm fingers now lightly caressing him it was even harder to get his head screwed on straight, but he made one final attempt at sorting through the various pieces of information he'd collected over the past twenty-four hours: Potter wanted him, really wanted him, and apparently had done for some time. Potter was no longer under the influence of the potion. Potter was still in Draco's bed, naked, lusty, hard as rock and _touching_ him. And Draco was too busy analysing things to take advantage. What the fuck was he playing at?

"Last night you promised to fuck me if I still wanted you and I think I've made it quite clear that I do, in fact, still want you." Potter continued on, oblivious to Draco's frantic thought processes as he pressed his own erection more firmly against Draco's arse, evidently seeking friction. "So what are you going to do now?"

For just a moment longer he hesitated, feeling just a little overwhelmed before finally, pure animal instinct kicked in. With a lightning fast movement, he turned, simultaneously flipping Potter onto his back and rolling atop him to keep him in place.

"You should have been in Slytherin." He declared as he pressed the Gryffindor back against the sheets, pinning his hands to the pillows beside his head.

"You're not the first to tell me that." Potter retorted with a grin.

"So you've got it all worked out have you?" Draco queried, shifting until their hips lined up, their erections rubbing together and making them both moan.

"Mhmm." The other boy murmured, tugging his wrists free in order to wrap his arms around Draco's neck. "We want each other, so why fight it?"

"Why indeed?" Draco agreed mindlessly as he lowered his head for a kiss.

It felt so different to the previous night, knowing he could touch without the fear of repercussions, and he had every intention of taking full advantage. With a sigh of satisfaction, he finally shoved his fingers into the mop of hair he had been longing to touch all evening, turning Potter's head this way and that as he deepened the kiss, exploring every millimetre of the Gryffindor's mouth. When that was no longer enough, he allowed one of his hands to sink lower, sliding over everything from taught muscles to pebbled nipples to ridges of scar tissue before finally approaching its goal.

He hesitated then, drawing back from the kiss and propping himself up on one elbow so he could see Potter's face. As soon as Draco stopped, the Gryffindor's mouth opened to speak, but he had no intention of allowing the other boy to interrupt his fun. With no further delay, he traversed the final expanse of skin, wrapping his hand around Potter's erection and beginning to stroke.

"Fuck, Malfoy!" He arched his back, forgetting whatever it was he'd intended to say in favour of crying out his name.

"You were calling me Draco yesterday." He teased, repeating the movement of his wrist.

"Fine, Draco, whatever you want, just don't..." Potter broke off with a moan, thrusting roughly up into his fist. "Just don't stop!"

"Are you sure that's what you want, _Harry_?" He purred, nudging the other boy's legs apart and settling himself in the space between them. "You wouldn't want me to break my promise now, would you?"

At that Potter seemed to freeze, his eyes widening as he gazed up at Draco, lips parted as he panted roughly.

"No." The Gryffindor agreed breathlessly, relaxing only to arch up into Draco's fist once again. "We can't have that."

"Sure?" He questioned, even as he released Potter in order to reach for his wand.

"Yes." The other boy murmured, wiggling enticingly beneath him. "Fuck me, Draco, make me _scream_."

Groaning in anticipation, he set about doing just that. A quick lubrication spell slicked his fingers, the first of which he wasted no time in inserting into Potter's more than willing body. A second soon followed and he watched fascinated as the Gryffindor arched and twisted beneath him, fucking himself on Draco's digits.

"More." Potter demanded, reaching for Draco and pulling him into a brief but passionate kiss. "I'm ready, I want you."

"Fuck, Potter, you really have a way with words don't you?" He stated, not even sure himself if he was being sarcastic or not. The Gryffindor's blunt command had certainly sent Draco's desires ratcheting up another notch.

The other boy didn't bother to respond, but then he supposed there was no need as Draco accompanied his teasing with the removal of his fingers. Another hurried spell and he was lining himself up with Potter's entrance, before slowly sinking into the deliciously tight heat.

"Ok?" He gasped when he was fully seated, holding himself still by sheer force of will.

"Yes." Potter murmured, his tongue darting out to moisten apparently dry lips. "Just give me a moment."

"Ok." He repeated, using the brief respite to try and get his own body back under control.

"Alright, I'm ready." The other boy panted after a moment or two. " _Move_ , Draco."

The Gryffindor punctuated his breathless demand with a roll of his hips, making them both moan and Draco could wait no longer. Slowly, he drew out almost completely, before thrusting forward again just as slowly, making certain Potter could feel every inch of him.

"Merlin, Draco..." The Gryffindor moaned, arching his back and drawing him even deeper.

"Harry..." He replied, his voice no more controlled as he repeated the movement of his his hips again and then again.

"Faster." Potter begged finally, when Draco had teased them both to distraction with the slow speed of his thrusts. "Please, more, I need..."

Abruptly, he pulled out before slamming forward.

"That what you wanted?" He demanded roughly.

"Yes! Fuck, _yes_." The Gryffindor raised his knees, planting his feet on the bed and raising his hips to meet every move Draco made. "Make. Me. _Scream_!"

"Whatever you say." He panted, shifting his weight until he could thrust with abandon, fucking Potter into the sheets.

It really was just as good as the Gryffindor had said it would be. Everything from the feel of Potter's body pulling him in, to the frantic pace of their movements, to the sexy as sin way that Potter had begun to chant his name. All of it seemed specifically designed to build him up for what he knew would be the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced. As he began to climb higher, he knew he could not hold out much longer and shifting his weight he slipped his hand between their bodies, moaning aloud at the feel of Potter's hard shaft in his fist. His muted sound of pleasure was echoed by the Gryffindor who practically growled at the extra stimulation and a moment later he tensed, crying out Draco's name so loudly it was almost a roar. A minute later, he found his own release, nearly biting through his lip in an effort not to cry out.

No longer able to support himself on trembling arms, he collapsed bonelessly on top of the panting Gryffindor. Even now he still expected Potter to suddenly come to his senses and flee, but again the other boy surprised him, wrapping his arms more tightly around Draco's back and hugging him closer.

"I told you so." Potter murmured finally, when their breathing had returned to something resembling normal.

"Told me what?" He queried, though he still couldn't quite summon the energy to move off of the Gryffindor.

"That it would be good." There was a smugness to Potter's tone that Draco wasn't sure he was entirely happy about.

"Just good?" He protested with mock affront.

"Amazing, then." He could hear the teasing smile in Potter's voice but as the Gryffindor continued talking, it bothered him less and less. "Breathtaking, astounding, spectacular, magnificent, phenomenal, stupendous, earth-shattering..."

"Best you've ever had?" Draco interjected with a little smugness of his own.

"Best I've ever had." Potter confirmed with a chuckle and a squeeze of his arms.

"Yeah." He admitted. "Me too."

"Think round two could be even better?" The Gryffindor asked with an unexpected note of tenderness, one hand sliding up Draco's back to caress the nape of his neck.

"Only one way to find out." He smirked, even though he knew Potter couldn't see his face.

"Ready again so soon?"

"Give me ten more minutes." He admitted, finally rolling off of the other boy to sprawl out beside him.

"I'll give you whatever you want as long as you promise to fuck me again before I go."

"And when are you planning on going?" He found himself holding his breath as he waited for an answer.

Potter shrugged. "Whenever you kick me out."

"So you're moving in then?" He quipped back, forcing a false note of lightheartedness into his voice.

"I..." The Gryffindor stared at him for what felt like a lifetime before his face suddenly lit up with a beaming smile. "Sure, why not."

"Your friends will be horrified."

"So will yours."

"True."

"They'll be happy for me, though."

"Really?" He wasn't convinced.

"Well, maybe." Potter gave him a lopsided grin. "They'll get used to it, anyway."

"They'll have to." Draco informed him haughtily.

"Yes they will." The beaming smile was back. "Because I'm not letting you go."

"Physically or metaphorically?"

"Either." The Gryffindor snuggled up closer, sliding his arm around Draco's waist and pressing their bodies together. "And you'll find I can be very stubborn when the mood takes me."

"You? Stubborn?" He shot the other boy a wide eyed look of surprise. "Surely not."

"Shut it, you." Potter retorted good naturedly before his lips suddenly quirked up into a wicked smirk. "Has it been ten minutes yet, do you think?"

"You're even worse this morning than you were last night." He rolled his eyes.

"I don't need the help of a potion to lust after you." The other boy paused to suck lightly at the pulse point on Draco's throat. "So, is that a yes or a no?"

"Yes." Draco surrendered, gasping when Potter's hand immediately dropped to circle his half-hard shaft. "Merlin, _yes_!"

There was certainly something to be said for naked, lust crazed saviours in his bed, he decided as he gave into the Gryffindor's seduction yet again.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn't mine.

Warnings: SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

Note: I intended to finish this at the end of the last chapter, but I got carried away... as did Harry & Draco, not to mention their somewhat voyeuristic friends!

 **Lust Crazed Saviours**

 **Chapter 3**

"What time is it?" Potter asked suddenly, pulling away just as Draco was beginning to rise to the occasion.

"Probably far too early for a Saturday, why?" He asked suspiciously as Potter cast a hasty tempus.

"Because we've missed breakfast, so by my calculations my housemates will have noticed by now that I sneaked out last night and be barging in to interrupt us in... oh, I don't know, five minutes, maybe? Ten if we're lucky."

"You seem rather sure about that..." Draco started, before abruptly falling silent when he heard the sound of muffled shouting coming from somewhere beyond the bed curtains. "Oh, right."

It was difficult to tell from here, but he suspected that Potter's rescue party were currently stuck in the common room, fighting with the door that separated the dorms from the communal area. With Granger on the case he thought five minutes was a rather generous estimate, but it could be merely a party of enraged Weasleys in which case they probably had at least an hour before they needed to worry. And that was assuming that none of the other Slytherins managed to scare them off in the meantime.

"My housemates will be delighted." He informed the Gryffindor. "I hope you're not too fond of your friends. Woe betide anyone who wakes a Slytherin before noon on a Saturday."

"They can handle themselves." Potter grinned before suddenly resuming his attack, kissing his way down Draco's chest and sucking on one of his nipples.

"What on earth are you doing?" He gasped.

"Well I, for one, would much rather handle you and I told you, we've got five minutes." The Gryffindor lifted his head only long enough to get his words out before returning to his task with even more relish.

"So you have a secret desire to give the Weasel a fatal heart-attack when he finds his best friend being fucked mercilessly by an evil Slytherin?" He tangled his fingers in the other boy's hair, pointedly holding him in place in case Potter mistakenly thought he was telling him to stop. "Fair enough, turn over."

"Not quite what I meant." Potter tried and failed to keep his amusement off of his face as he peered up at Draco from the vicinity of his navel.

"And you think we'll be finished in five minutes do you? Because now that you've given me fair warning I have every intention of ensuring your friends find you in the most compromising position I can think of."

"Why does that not surprise me?" The Gryffindor rolled his eyes, but Draco thought he felt a shiver of anticipation as well.

"Because as I just said, I'm an evil Slytherin."

Potter grinned in response, but before he could reply, an even louder hammering sounded on the dormitory door, interrupting him. "Damn, they're early."

"Ah well, there's no time for fucking, but there's still time for a blow-job. Get sucking, Potter."

For half a second, the Gryffindor froze, watching Draco's face as if waiting for him to take it back. When he did nothing of the sort, that wicked smirk he was beginning to grow rather fond of made a spectacular reappearance.

"You asked for it." Potter warned him before suddenly ducking down beneath the covers.

Draco had been half-hard since the other boy had begun his latest round of seduction, but at the feel of Potter's tongue swirling over his flesh, the rest of his blood diverted southwards and he quickly sprang to attention. As if in reward, the Gryffindor opened his mouth, wrapping his lips around the hard shaft and beginning to suck, completely ignoring the continued hammering at the door. Draco was just starting to really enjoy himself when the curtains of his bed were abruptly pulled back to reveal a pair of fuming Gryffindors and an equally irate Blaise.

"Will you please inform our saviours that Potter is not here so we may continue our lie-in in peace? Thank you kindly." The Slytherin shot him a glare, before disappearing from view again.

"Where is he, Malfoy?" Weasley growled at him just as Potter gave a particularly hard suck.

"He's..." Draco's hands fluttered uselessly over the tented sheets, vaguely wondering how it was possible that neither of them had noticed the Potter sized lump beneath his covers, even as he arched helplessly up into the aforementioned hero's mouth.

"Ron, this is stupid, wherever he is I'm sure he's fine, let's just go." Granger tugged fruitlessly on her boyfriend's arm, leaving Draco to wonder why she was there at all if she was willing to give up so uncharacteristically quickly.

"Well?" Weasley pressed, crossing his arms over his chest in what Draco could only assume was an attempt to look more menacing.

"He's..." He tried again only to find himself abruptly swallowed whole. "Fuck, Potter!"

"What? Where is... Harry?!"

The horror in Weasley's voice was palpable, but Draco barely noticed. Shoving his hands beneath the covers he grabbed hold of the Gryffindor's head, trying to pull him away before it was too late, but Potter was having none of it. Ignoring the fingers tugging insistently at his hair, the other boy merely increased the speed of his movement, swirling his tongue with every upstroke until Draco was nearly delirious with need.

"Please..." He begged mindlessly, his audience all but forgotten.

With his mouth full, there was little Potter could say in response, but his hum of acknowledgement was Draco's undoing. Stuffing his fist in his mouth to muffle his cry of pleasure, he came, pouring his release down the Gryffindor's throat. With one last suck, Potter finally released him, scooting back up the bed to sprawl on top of him. Before he could say a word, however, the other boy leaned forward, pressing their lips together in a bitter tasting kiss that wasn't entirely pleasant.

"Bastard." He choked when the Gryffindor finally pulled back, that same wicked smirk playing across his lips.

He wasn't sure if he was referring to the oddly flavoured kiss or the fact that Potter had just sucked him off in front of a hostile audience, but the other boy seemed remarkably complacent about both factors. Belatedly recalling the potential danger of his bed partner's friends however, he peered over the Gryffindor's shoulder to see his fellow saviours staring down at them with varied expressions. While Weasley looked just as horrified as expected, the witch by his side seemed torn between embarrassed curiosity and a knowing half-smile.

"Harry?" Weasley's voice sounded rather distant as he finally broke the growing silence and Draco briefly wondered if he was going to faint.

"Mhmm?" Potter, glanced back at his friends even as he shifted, pressing his erection into Draco's thigh.

"You're under the influence of a very powerful potion." The ginger Gryffindor started, speaking slowly and carefully.

"No I'm not." Potter interrupted. "It wore off ages ago."

"Harry, you don't know what you're saying..."

"Ron, I already told you it wore off last night." There was amusement in Granger's tone, though she was obviously trying to hide it and Draco belatedly realised that her presence probably had more to do with chaperoning the Weasel than rescuing Potter.

"But... He... Why... Malfoy!" Weasley spluttered looking as though he might cry.

"You knew how he felt." Granger told her boyfriend more gently than Draco thought he deserved.

"But..."

"You did?" Potter interrupted, looking startled.

"Oh, Harry, it was so obvious." She smiled down at him, an almost doting expression on her face.

"It was not!" Weasley protested before turning on his best friend. "How could you?"

"Ron!"

"You said it yourself, Weasel." Draco interrupted, just to annoy him even more. "He's always staring at me, right?"

"You noticed that?" For some bizarre reason it was this that made Potter blush despite everything they had done in the past twelve hours.

"Of course."

Well, he'd noticed the other boy glaring often enough, so it was almost true. Though if the Gryffindor's incredulous look was anything to go by, he hadn't been entirely believed.

"Will you all shut the fuck up and get out!" They all jumped at the sound of Blaise's shout coming from the direction of his own bed. "Who fucking cares who's fucking who as long as they do it fucking quietly!"

Draco couldn't help chuckling at that, aware that behind their silencing charms Potter was anything but quiet. In truth he hadn't even cast the charms until after the Gryffindor had dropped off and then it had only been in anticipation of a screaming match this morning, but that was beside the point. Still, he was relieved that his own best friend was apparently not entirely averse to his newly developing relationship, even if he was currently too tired to really take it in.

"Come on. We can talk about this later." Granger began trying to shepherd a highly unwilling Weasley out of the door.

"No, I'm not leaving him here to be... _molested_ by evil Slytherin wankers."

"Ron, please..."

"Harry..." The Gryffindor ignored his girlfriend in favour of turning pleading eyes on his best friend.

"Ron, if you don't get out of here in the next ten seconds you are going to see far more than you ever wanted to." He grabbed Draco's hand, tugging on it until he took the hint, wrapping his fingers around the other boy's erection that hadn't flagged at all during the conversation. "Ten..."

"Harry..." Weasley repeated, looking stricken.

"Nine." He started thrusting shallowly into Draco's fist, the movement clearly visible above the sheets.

"Come _on_ , Ron." Granger's tone was desperate, but he couldn't help noticing the way her eyes followed their every movement.

"Eight." Potter panted, gasping when Draco twisted his hand just so. "Seven."

Abruptly, he flipped the Gryffindor onto his back, ducking beneath the covers and wrapping his lips around the other boy's shaft.

"Six!" He nearly screamed, arching into Draco's mouth.

There was another shout, this time resembling Theo's voice, then a yelp, followed by a bang and the sharp sound of his bed curtains closing, but he suspected Potter would not thank him if he paused to investigate the latest commotion. Tightening his grip, he began to move in earnest, using lips, hands and tongue to bring the other boy to the brink. He was still relieved, however, when the next word out of the Gryffindor's mouth was not 'five', but 'Draco' and he allowed himself to hope that they were now, finally, alone. With that in mind, he shoved the covers back giving himself some much needed air as well as the chance to capture Potter's gaze with his own.

"Oh, fuck that's hot." The other boy moaned as soon as their eyes met, tangling his hands in Draco's hair to keep him looking up.

Unable to smirk with his mouth full, Draco was forced to settle for raising an eyebrow, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Potter moaned again before crying out as his whole body went rigid. Swallowing rapidly, he allowed himself one last suck before pulling back and sliding back up the bed. Intent on a little revenge, he quickly pressed their lips together, pushing his tongue into Potter's mouth, but rather than the mild disgust he had felt at the taste of himself, the Gryffindor seemed to relish it, pulling him closer and kissing him deeply.

"So they finally left, then." He gasped when the other boy eventually let him up for air.

"No, they're still watching." Potter informed him, completely dead-pan.

Draco nearly looked round before stopping himself at the last moment and scowling at the boy beneath him. "Very funny."

He was treated to yet another of Potter's wicked grins and his brief flash of irritation quickly melted away.

"Who knew Gryffindors were so voyeuristic." He mused aloud, settling himself more comfortably in the other boy's embrace.

"Hermione certainly seemed to be enjoying the view." Potter agreed, his expression fixed somewhere between embarrassed and amused.

"Maybe Weasley won't put out and she needs to get her kicks elsewhere."

"That is... disturbing." Potter frowned at him, looking slightly nauseous.

"Hey, it's not my fault world saviours are such a lust crazed lot. And apparently the more heroic you are, the worse it gets, huh?" He grabbed hold of Potter's hand which had begun a slow slide down his back towards his arse.

"So how does that explain Ron?" The other boy asked, an impish grin on his face as he deployed his other hand in a second attempt at groping Draco's nether cheeks.

"He's clearly not heroic enough." Draco caught hold of Potter's other hand, temporarily waylaying him.

"Ron is just as 'heroic' as Hermione and me." Potter's eyes glazed over for a moment, evidently recalling some distant memory. "Maybe even more so."

"Well there's an exception to every rule." Draco allowed, although he was still rather sceptical about the whole thing.

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" The Gryffindor's lips quirked upwards as he made a third attempt at groping him.

"Of course." Draco answered promptly, a smirk of his own gracing his features.

"Of course." Potter echoed with a laugh and this time Draco gave in, letting him have his way.

With a whoop of triumph, the Gryffindor grabbed hold of his arse, using the movement to tug Draco into a kiss.

"So what now?" Potter asked when they parted.

"Sleep." He decided, biting back a yawn. "I told you it was far too early for a Saturday."

"Alright." The Gryffindor acquiesced, finally releasing him and allowing him to settle more comfortably on the bed. "Sweet dreams."

^v^

It was several hours later when Draco next opened his eyes and at first he wasn't sure what had woken him. Potter was still asleep, sprawled across his chest, their legs tangled together beneath the twisted sheets and the room seemed quiet and peaceful. It was a moment, therefore, before he noticed that the drapes, which had been firmly closed when he had fallen asleep, had been opened wide enough to let in the late morning sun. It was only then that he realised they were being watched.

"So it wasn't all merely a terrible dream, then?" Blaise drawled, leaning casually against a bed post as he gazed impassively down at them.

"You mean the Gryffindor invasion? Sadly not."

"And is he a prisoner of war or a fallen hero?" Blaise queried, nodding towards the still sleeping saviour.

"A little of both, I think. Either way, he was an early casualty." Draco tried to slide out from beneath the weight of Potter's body without waking him, but it was an impossible task. "He was here before I went to bed last night."

"Oh?" Blaise raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Nothing happened." He added, knowing what his friend was thinking without him needing to say so. "Well, not much anyway."

"So I imagined the blow-job he gave you this morning did I?"

"Oh no, that definitely happened. Nearly gave Weasley heart failure, that did." He grinned fondly down at the prone Gryffindor.

"Long lasting potion." Blaise mused.

"Naturally lust crazed." Draco countered. "Can't keep his hands off me, potion or no. Not that I can blame him, of course."

"Of course." This time his friend's lips quirked upwards as he shook his head. "I can't believe you finally got him."

"Excuse me?" Draco voice shot through several octaves as he stared up at his fellow Slytherin.

At the sharp sound, Potter shifted against his chest and Draco froze, breathing a sigh of relief when the other boy murmured something unintelligible before settling once more. Returning his attention to Blaise, he sent him a glare, trying to convince himself that he couldn't have heard him right. After all, he had never admitted to a soul that he had any feelings besides those of disgust and loathing for Harry Potter. Hell, he hadn't even fully admitted it to _himself_ until he'd found himself with his arms full of lusty Gryffindor, there was no way Blaise could have known. Yet the bastard's expression was far too smug for someone who'd been caught completely unawares by the situation.

"He isn't the only one who never stops staring now, is he?" Blaise shot him a knowing wink, before nodding towards his bed partner. "The lion is stirring."

With a swirl of green curtains, the other boy vanished from view, just as Potter moved, stretching languously before opening his eyes.

"Who was that?" The Gryffindor asked around a wide yawn.

"Blaise." He muttered distractedly, his head still whirling from his friend's revelation.

"Do I need to check that no parts of my anatomy were hexed off while I slept?" Potter asked with a cheeky grin, pressing one particular part against Draco's thigh as he spoke and effectively pulling him out of his thoughts.

"I think you're probably safe." He rolled his eyes, before allowing a grin of his own to overtake his features. "Although if you're really worried, I could check nothing important is missing..."

As he spoke he ran his hands down the Gryffindor's back, earning a moan of pleasure when he reached the firm globes of the other boy's behind.

"Probably a good idea." Potter agreed breathlessly, only to be interrupted by a low rumble.

"Well your stomach is certainly still intact." Draco chuckled as the other boy blushed.

"Hey, I missed breakfast." Potter muttered, his voice almost drowned out by a second, louder rumble. " _And_ supper last night for that matter, what do you expect?"

"Well you can't blame me for that." He returned innocently, unable to resist baiting the other boy.

"I can and I _will_ blame you for that." The Gryffindor laughed easily. "If you weren't so delectable, I wouldn't have forgotten to satisfy my other appetites."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that, surprised despite himself that Potter hadn't jumped at the opportunity to reprimand him over his sabotage in the Potions classroom. As if hearing his thoughts, the Gryffindor grinned impishly at him, but kept his silence, instead reaching down to rummage at the end of the bed. A moment later he was pulling on his rather rumpled clothing from the previous day.

"You need to change." Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Food first, then change." Potter stated firmly as he pulled back the bed curtains, settling himself on the edge of the mattress to pull on his shoes.

The low buzz of conversation that had met Draco's ears when the drapes were first opened muted the moment his dorm mates caught sight of Potter. The room was so still that even the slightest creak of his bed sounded ridiculously loud in the silence, yet the Gryffindor seemed completely unconcerned by his surroundings, tying his laces as if he were safe amongst his own friends. There was something about his quiet confidence that appealed to Draco on the basest of levels and as the other boy stood to pull on his crumpled robes, Draco found himself staring unashamedly up at him. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing until Blaise snickered, finally breaking the heavy silence and earning himself a glare for his trouble.

At the sudden sound Potter's eyes shot up, his gaze flitting from Draco to Blaise and back again, before his lips quirked up into a knowing smirk that would have made a Slytherin proud.

"I'll see you in the great hall." He told Draco, leaning over him to drop a lingering kiss on his lips. "And don't worry, you can stare at me as much as you like then."

With that Potter winked at him before heading for the door, leaving Draco, once again, staring after him; the sound of Blaise's laughter ringing in his wake.


End file.
